


the collected adventures of Ravenmask and Ramfeather

by legalgood



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Gen, like spawning a bunch of ravens in her apartment, please take care of these impulsive gays, she definitely uses the gaia sash for inconsequential things, sloane's such a nerd, that accidentally manage to screw up her life, there's canon-typical swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 03:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legalgood/pseuds/legalgood
Summary: This is from a bunch of conversations I had with a few of my TAZ fan friends and I couldn't fit it into one cohesive story so this is three short ones.





	the collected adventures of Ravenmask and Ramfeather

i.

                  “Sloane!” Hurley shouted, kicking down the door. “Thank Istus I found you. Now, gimme that damn belt,” she demanded, before taking in the scene before her. Her racing partner and girlfriend, who had recently acquired a magical item which allowed her some sort of nature powers, which she had used to take out another wagon last week, killing the racers inside, was on her couch, laughing and crying, and surrounded by an absurd number of ravens.

 

                  “Hurley Hurley Hurls look I have so many friends Hurls they all love me so much and I love them," Sloane babbled, smiling tearfully up at Hurley. Hurley’s mouth was agape, and it took her a few moments to respond.

 

                  “Sloane, there’s birdshit _everywhere_ ,” she finally managed, and only then did Sloane stop happy-crying and look around at her apartment.

 

                  “I did not think this through,” Sloane admitted. She concentrated, and tapped into the power of the sash.

 

                  “Sloane, what’re you doing?” Hurley asked apprehensively.

 

                  “Flooding the place to get rid of the birdshit,” Sloane replied, and instantly after she had spoken the words, realization dawned on her for the second time that day. “Shit.”

 

                  Hurley sighed, and just as the floodwaters began to flow, clapped her hands together and blasted herself and Sloane out of the apartment. She gave Sloane a look, and Sloane smiled sheepishly.

 

                  “Thanks Hurls.” Hurley nodded curtly, and brusquely motioned for Sloane to come with her.

 

                  “You’re staying at my place,” she explained. Sloane reached out and took one of Hurley’s hands and kissed her palm.

 

                  “So gallant, Lieutenant,” she murmured. Hurley snatched her hand back, but she was blushing.

 

                  At Hurley’s apartment, Hurley asked Sloane to sit on the couch while she prepared them both a cup of hot coffee.

 

                  “Sloane, you have to give me that belt,” Hurley began. “Your impulsive gay ass can’t handle that much power.”

 

                  ‘You can definitely handle this much power, Sloane,’ she heard the Sash whisper. _Hurls has a very, very good point_ , Sloane thought back, to which the Sash replied with a shrug of general agreement. Sloane untied the Sash, and placed it in Hurley’s outstretched hand.

 

                  ‘Hey, hey, put me on, and you can control vines and shit, isn’t that cool?’ Hurley heard the belt Sloane had given her say in her head. She shook her head, and dazedly began to move the belt towards her waist. Sloane’s hand on her arm stopped her.

 

                  “If _my_ impulsive gay ass can’t handle it, what makes you think _your_ impulsive gay ass can,” she joked. Hurley’s eyes cleared, and the belt’s wheedling tones faded. Hurley retrieved an evidence bag and carefully sealed the belt inside.

 

                  “Thanks, Sloane. I’m glad neither of us were too far gone with using that thing. That could’ve ended very badly.”

 

                  Sloane laughed, and put an arm around Hurley’s shoulders. “Yeah, wouldn’t that’ve been something.”

 

                  (Some weeks later, three mercenaries showed up in Goldcliff, asking after a sash that sounds like the one Sloane had found. Captain Captain Bane put Hurley in contact with them, and she handed over the sash without a hitch.

 

                  “You didn’t fall under its thrall?” the elf asked, surprised.

 

                  “I rolled a nat 20 on my wisdom save,” Hurley explained. The elf and his companions nodded approvingly. “Sorry about Sloane’s impulsive gay ass destroying half the city before I caught up with her.”

 

                  The elf cackled, and clapped Hurley on the back.

 

                  “You guys into wagon racing?” Hurley asked, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. The human man enthusiastically nodded. “Drop by the track outside of town if you’re ever in this area again. Look out for the Raven and the Ram,” she added. The human man gave Hurley two big thumbs up. Hurley grinned, and strolled out of her office to meet up with Sloane for lunch.)

 

* * *

 

 

ii.

                  In retrospect, spawning a bunch of ravens into her apartment had been a bad idea. Sloane was wading through birdshit in an ungainly manner, and she was regretting every moment of her life so far. _Having raven friends seemed like it would be so much fun_ , she thought despondently. _My apartment is basically unlivable, I gotta find a place to camp out. Hurls’ll kill me if I show up covered in birdshit…THE BANK!_

In retrospect, choosing to camp out in a golden building that very obviously didn’t have beds of any sort had been a bad idea. Sloane lay back on a not quite comfortable makeshift bed of vines and sighed. The “redecorating” hadn’t gone as she had planned; the vines had constricted so much that without them the building was sure to collapse. Sloane hummed “Birdhouse in Your Soul,” as the greenery had overtaken the building. Some of her ravens had followed her to the Trust, but most had probably wandered off to do their own business. _Note to self: train your ravens_ first _._

“C’mon, Hurls pick up…please pick up…” Sloane’s stone of farspeech was pressed to her ear, and she crossed her fingers that Hurley would somehow wake up to hear it ringing.

 

                  “It is three in the goddamn morning you better be down to one hit point,” Hurley’s not very menacing sleepy voice came through the stone. Sloane sighed in relief.

 

“I wrecked my apartment. Can I crash at your place?” Hurley was silent for a moment before she replied,

 

“What the fuck did you do.”

 

“...”

 

“Sloane,” Hurley said warningly.

 

“Lots of ravens make lots of birdshit?” Sloane’s voice curled it into a question. She heard a long suffering sigh from the other end of the line. “So,” she asked nervously.

 

“Of course you can stay at my place.”

“Nice also can you pick me up.” Sloane heard another sigh.

 

“Geez, your apartment is on the other side of town,” Hurley groaned. She yawned and Sloane smiled at her early morning voice.

 

“I’m not at my apartment,” Sloane admitted.

 

“Sloane, what the fuck did you do.” Hurley’s annoyance was clear in her tone.

 

“I’m at the Goldcliff Trust,” Sloane replied, dodging the question.

 

“At 3 AM. How the shit, what the fuck,” Hurley stammered, completely exasperated.

 

“I had to make a withdrawal?”

 

“And you can’t just take the stairs down and meet me at my place?”

 

“Uh, the stairs are out of order? As is the, whole building?”

 

“Sloane, how the fuck, did you—”

 

“Lots and lots of vines,” Sloane explained.

 

“Then just climb down some vines. You’re a master thief not a cat stuck in a tree.”

 

“Hurls, I’m afraid of heights.” Hurley snorted derisively.

 

“I know for a fact that you’re not,” she countered.

 

“Huuuuurls,” Sloane whined.

 

“I could just take you to the militia station,” Hurley said, almost threateningly.

 

“You wouldn’t though,” Slone challenged. “I’m too charming.”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“Seeya in five, Ram.” Sloane went to hang up the call, but then Hurley’s voice came through the stone.

 

“This is the last time I wake up at three AM to save your impulsive gay ass you got that?” Sloane grinned, knowing that it most certainly wouldn’t be.

 

* * *

 

 

iii.

                  “Lieutenant, I’d like you to meet Brambleclaw,” Sloane announced proudly. Hurley looked up into the beady eyes of a rather large raven, which sat on a perch in Sloane’s garage. “He’s my second-in-command,” Sloane explained. “An integral part of our racing team,” she continued.

 

                  “Uh, hello, Brambleclaw,” Hurley stretched her hand out uncertainly. Brambleclaw lowered his head and pushed his beak up under Hurley’s hand until it was resting on top of his head. He cawed appraisingly.

 

                  “Good thing he likes you, Lieutenant. I might’ve had to find another racing partner,” Sloane said jokingly.

 

                  “Why is that name familiar,” Hurley muttered. Brambleclaw seemed like something she had read once, when she was younger. The light bulb in her head clicked on, and she turned back to Sloane, who was rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “Fantasy Warrior Cats!” Hurley exclaimed. Sloane nodded sheepishly. “You nerd.” Hurley laughed, not unkindly, and Sloane relaxed. “I never got far past the first series,” Hurley admitted, and Sloane’s eyes widened.

 

                  “But then you barely got to know Brambleclaw!” Sloane was incredulous. “You never got to the lake,” she continued, astounded at Hurley’s ignorance. “Maybe I have to find another racing partner after all,” Sloane pronounced, sobering. Hurley elbowed her, and Sloane broke out into a grin. “What was your Fantasy Warrior Cats name?” She asked Hurley.

 

                  Hurley shook her head. “I never got _that_ much into it, even as a kid. I was pretty busy with training for the militia entrance exams. But tell me, what was yours?”

 

                  “You can’t just _not_ have a Fantasy Warrior Cats name, Hurley,” Slone decreed. She considered Hurley for a few moments, and Hurley felt herself begin to blush beneath Sloane’s gaze. “Ramfeather,” Sloane announced, and grinned triumphantly at the way Hurley’s eyes lit up. “I’m Ravenmask, of course.”

 

                  “Of course.”

 

                  “What do you say, Brambleclaw? Are we ready to turn the unstoppable duo into an unstoppable trio?” Brambleclaw cawed again, and nodded towards Hurley. Sloane laughed, and extended a hand. “Welcome to the team, Ramfeather.”

 

                  “You’re such a dork,” Hurley replied fondly. She took Sloane’s hand and pulled her down into a kiss.


End file.
